


métamorphose

by tokyogoule



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Porn, Bulimia, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Eventual Fluff, F/M, KaneTsuki - Freeform, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Out of Character, Past Child Abuse, Public Blow Jobs, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, hints of rize/yomo, not really Touken, shuuneki, very OOC Hide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyogoule/pseuds/tokyogoule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For up-and-coming model Tsukiyama Shuu, having his old hairstylist quit on him only to be replaced by a younger, well-known, and attractive one should not have been as devastating as it was. The new hairstylist - Kaneki Ken - was an infuriating blend of smug attitude and teasing touches, masked by a friendly exterior. But something about the mysterious and often confusing nature of the man, hidden just below the surface, drew Tsukiyama in. Maybe it was the darkness he sensed in him, a darkness that his own was attracted to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. soupirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tsukiyama gets a new hairstylist and freaks the fuck out

He gazed at his own reflection in the mirror, the pale sunlight streaming through his curtains highlighting his vivid hair and the pronounced bones and contours of his face. His eyes lowered gradually, until they and slim fingers traced along his delicate collarbones. He sighed, brushing strands of violet hair behind his ears.

    Tsukiyama Shuu never felt he was quite beautiful enough.

 

* * *

  
    “Hide, what the fuc-,” Touka’s startled exclamation was muffled by his lips on hers, moving with a neediness that was veiled by confidence. Eyes widening, Touka shoved the blonde back hard, staring at him disbelievingly before rushing off in the direction of her room. Hide heard a door slam, and sighed before running his fingertips along his lips.

 _She cares so much about his happiness, she’s willing to sacrifice her own_ , he thought.

 

* * *

     
His legs trembled and he jerked forward into his own hand, feeling a burning, itching heat inside him that grew steadily even as the water from the showerhead ran cold. Shuddering and gasping lowly, he stroked himself faster, using his other arm to brace himself against the wall. His mind played images of hair in hues of violet and fragile-looking collarbones. The heat ballooned in his abdomen and exploded throughout his body as he came hard on the tiled walls, choking back a moan. He sighed, lazily stroking his cock and chasing the tails of his orgasm. He thought about him again as he washed the remnants of shampoo out of his white locks.  

This new client was going to be a problem for Kaneki Ken.

 

* * *

  
As soon as Tsukiyama tried to start his car and it wouldn’t work, he knew it was going to be a bad day. He checked his watch. Fifteen minutes until he was supposed to be in his dressing room to get ready for his next show. He figured his best bet was public transportation, so he reluctantly got out of his plush leather seats, locked the car, and made his way to the bus station.

    He made it to his dressing room just in time, and silently thanked the universe for allowing his bus ride to be fairly quick and harassment-free. As he opened the door, he saw an unfamiliar head of white hair and focused his gaze on it. It looked so soft, so perfectly trimmed, _I wonder what conditioner he uses_ … Tsukiyama’s thoughts drifted off into silence as his eyes travelled lower and found a steely gaze that matched the coldness of the steel-gray eyes behind it.

 Tsukiyama’s face pulled into a small scowl.

    “Who the fuck are you?” he quipped, settling into his chair and shooting the white-haired man a glare through the mirror across from him.

 Kaneki smirked as he remembered his time in the shower earlier that morning. This was going to be a fun one.

    “Ah, Tsukiyama-san, I’m going to be your new hair stylist. My name is Kaneki Ken. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He extended his hand to his new client, smiling at him brightly.

 Tsukiyama stared at the outstretched hand, and then promptly walked out the door, took his cell phone out, and made a call to his manager.

    “Rize, what the fuck is going on with this new hair dresser thing?” he seethed into the phone, clenching his fists tightly.    

    “Your old one quit after you yelled at her for ten minutes straight because she trimmed your bangs a centimetre too short, so you have to just deal with it, princess. He’s worked with a lot of big names, so you’re in good hands, relax," said a seemingly calm female voice.

 Tsukiyama knew better and could detect the underlying tone of her voice, a tone that said _I will make you regret it if you try to argue_. He clicked his tongue and punched his thumb against the phone’s screen to hang up. The touchscreen made it a lot less dramatic than he had planned; it’s at times like these where he wished phones with physical end call buttons were still a big thing.

    He walked back into his dressing room and slumped into his chair, ignoring the absolutely irritating smile that _Kaneki Fucking Ken_ still had plastered on his face, set in place like he was made of plastic. Leaning back in his seat to grant the other silent approval to work on his hair, Tsukiyama glared weakly at the styling tools in front of him and willed his cheeks to not flush pink as he felt cool hands working at his scalp and the unfailingly relaxing sensation of having someone else brush your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was having such trouble with figuring out exactly what colour Tsukiyama’s hair is, I almost considered writing “strands of #6E57CC hair” instead. Almost.


	2. duchenne smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some hide x touka, and a flashback of the beginning of touka and kaneki's friendship (bonus: guy getting rekt by touka's fist)

    “Hide, when is that guy supposed to come in to check the place out?” Kaneki asked, maneuvering past the little island in the centre of their kitchen to pour himself another cup of coffee.

    “Hmm… let me check my email again,” he replied, typing with practiced hands. “Tomorrow at noon. You have the day off, don’t you?” The blonde asked, question muffled by the greasy piece of bacon he had just stuffed into his mouth.

 Kaneki grimaced at the grease coating Hide’s lips. "Yeah. I hope this guy likes the place, we really need to sublet that fourth room as soon as possible..." He trailed off, about to berate Hide for getting bacon fat on the dining table, when Touka walked into the kitchen. It looked like she had just gotten out of bed.

    “Good morning, Touka!” Kaneki smiled up at her.

 She returned a soft smile of her own, eyes wandering to meet Hide’s. He wore a small frown. She turned away immediately, guilt churning at the pit of her stomach, and took out the blender to prepare her morning smoothie and get her mind off of the feeling.

    “Well, I’m off, the new client seems like a bit of a diva so I don’t wanna be late. Bye!” Kaneki called out, smiling to himself as he slipped his shoes on and grabbed his bag of styling tools.

 The door’s lock turned with a soft click, and Touka froze in place as she felt arms snake around her waist.

    “Hide, we already talked about this. I can’t…” Her voice trailed off into a small gasp as Hide’s lips brushed against the nape of her neck.

    “And why not?” He murmured, gripping her slender hips and pulling her back towards him. He continued planting feather-light kisses on her neck, making his way to her ear. “He’s not even home right now.”

 Touka leaned back further, cursing her body for reacting and herself for giving in so easily. She could feel the slight bulge of the blonde’s cock against her ass, and at that, her stomach twisted in arousal.

A small voice in the rational depths of her mind spoke up, nagging at her until the arousal in her stomach transitioned into shame. She turned and pushed Hide back, ignoring the sharper pangs of guilt she felt when she saw the hurt in his eyes.

    “You know why, Hide. I can’t hurt him like that. I don’t want to make things awkward between all three of us.”

    “Why are you so adamant about protecting him? I hate to see you giving up and feeling all this guilt when we both know how we feel about each other…” He trailed off, staring at the ground with his eyebrows knitted in frustration.

    “. . .” Touka stared at her feet, leaning back against the counter until the edges dug into her back, hard enough to hurt.

  He grabbed his bag and left for class, not trusting himself to control his emotions. She looked lost in her own thoughts.

  _Why am I protecting him…_ Hide’s words echoed in her mind, and memories of when she was fourteen years old floated to the surface.

* * *

      
    _She sat there eating her lunch, bare legs being tickled by the half-dead grass, the sun beating down on the playground angrily as if it wanted to punish indiscriminately. Sheltered by the shade provided by her favourite tree, she let her gaze travel from classmate to classmate, assessing their smiling faces. They were chatting, gossiping, socializing. She looked down at the yellow-brown grass between her feet, feeling a dull sadness, a feeling that’s left behind once you’re used to being alone._

_She had never been good at making friends._

    “Please, stop!” She heard someone cry, followed by casually cruel laughter.

Touka turned towards the source of the sound and saw a boy she didn’t recognize. He looked to be about her age and was clutching something to his chest, sheets of sepia fluttering in the wind and falling around him. She recognized the three boys surrounding him - the group of pests that every school inevitably had.   
 She felt anger spread through her body at an alarming rate; before she knew it, she was sprinting towards the group, her sandwich dropped to the ground and forgotten. The only thought she had was to help the boy - the boy with the rounded face and innocent eyes - save him in the way she had always wanted to be saved, back when razor-lipped girls would use words to slice away at her self-es-  
  
    _Crunch_.

“Aaagck!” One of the boys screamed, blood spurting from his nostrils. He was the one who had been trying to grab what the gray-eyed boy was holding onto desperately.

 Pulling back her fist, she saw blood covering her knuckles, silence surrounding her. The students that had been chatting animatedly had stopped, their attention focused on the commotion, eyes hungry for drama. She heard someone yell and the students dispersed, making way for one of the teachers. The boy she had punched was laying on the ground, sobbing and covering his nose, while his two friends looked on in shock.

  She glanced over at the boy she had wanted to save. He was crawling along the ground gathering up the pages that had been torn from his book, trying to stuff them back into the binding and sniffling, tears rolling down his slightly chubby cheeks. Bending down, she picked up one of the pages by her feet. _The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka_ , read the title page, and below it there was a short, hand-written message in neat, blue script.

 

_Happy birthday, little lamb! This is one of my favourites, and I hope one day it becomes yours too._

_Love, Dad._

 

 The paper was snatched out of her hands quickly, and she stared up in surprise to meet tear-filled steel eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped suddenly. Touka felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around, looking up to see her English teacher staring at her with disappointment.

    “Come with me,” she said with a sigh.

 

\-  -  -

 

    Touka spent her week of suspension reading and getting ahead on the classwork she would be missing. She was grateful it had been her English teacher supervising lunch that day - she knew the woman had a soft spot for her, and Touka would sometimes skip lunch to stay behind after class to talk to her. She was one of the few people the fourteen year old felt a connection to. She was afraid to think about what her punishment would have been had it been someone else on lunch duty.

 On her first Monday back at school, she walked down the halls and felt eyes on her, catching snippets of the occasional whisper.   
   _Broken nose, huh?_ She thought, smiling to herself as she walked into her English class.

 As soon as she entered, the room’s typically boisterous chatter died down, fearful eyes peeking up when they thought she wouldn’t see them. Touka rolled her eyes and made her way to her desk, slumping into the seat and pulling out the reading assignment that would be covered that day. She began reading it distractedly, the noise of conversation gradually starting back up. Finding herself reading the same two lines over and over again, she was about to put the booklet away when someone pulled out the empty chair at the desk next to hers. It had been the last unoccupied seat in the classroom. Startled, she glanced up to see a head of pin-straight hair and gloomy eyes. It was the boy she had gotten suspended over, and he was sliding into his seat while glancing at her nervously.

    “H-hello,” he stuttered as he met her eyes. “I… I didn’t get a chance to thank you last week. T-thanks.” The boy looked down at his lap shyly.

 _This kid would be too easy to pick on,_ Touka thought to herself, finding his meek personality almost irritating. She said nothing.

    “That book was really important to me. If you hadn’t come at the right time, I might not have been able to recover any of the pages in one piece…“ He trailed off, keeping his eyes lowered.

    “Yeah, I saw the note on one of the pages. Gift from your dad?” She asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

His eyes snapped up at that, and his mouth slowly turned into what Touka thought was a sad smile, one that made her think of wilted roses.

    “Yes, he gave it to me for my twelfth birthday. He passed away a few days later.” This time he stared at the front of the room, seeming lost in his thoughts.

 Her eyes widened slightly at that, and she looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. She gritted her teeth slightly before continuing.

    “I’m sorry. My dad died when I was a little girl,” she offered. She was not the best at consoling people. She had lost her father years ago, and it was still an ache in her heart that she never saw going away.

Kaneki looked up at her and gave her a warm smile, a true one - the kind where the corners of your eyes scrunch up.  

 _A Duchenne smile_ , Touka remembered randomly.

    “Thank you, Touka. I really appreciate it.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you know my name?”

His eyebrows lifted in amusement, the clouds behind his eyes clearing a bit. “I have ears, Touka. People wouldn’t stop talking about you during the week you were gone. On that note, I’m so sorry about your suspension, I tried to tell them about wh-” He was cut off when Touka clicked her tongue at him.

    “Shut up. What’s your name anyway? And why haven’t I seen you around before?” She muttered, fighting down the embarrassment threatening to show on her face. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and saw that he was now grinning.

    “I’m new - my first day was the day those guys tore my book apart. My name’s Kaneki. Kaneki Ken. You can call me Ken if you want,” he said shyly, returning his gaze to his lap. His smile was still in place.

 Seeing the boy smile made her chest hurt with a dull ache, eyes stinging slightly with the threat of tears. _He reminds me of Dad…_

She bit the inside of her lip _hard_ to distract herself, almost drawing blood. At that moment, the teacher made her entrance, and Touka turned her attention to the front of the room.

    She had finally found a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: headcanon that kaneki's dad used to call him little lamb bc he's cute and used to be super shy [crying emoji]. i was gonna try to keep each chapter under 1k but this is almost 2k... oh well
> 
> naki will be introduced next chapter, i can't wait to write him tbh


	3. colocataire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> growing ~sexual tension~ between tsukiyama and kaneki  
> naki comes to see the apartment  
> everyone is afraid of yamori
> 
> ALSO!! i got bored and decided to make a layout of their apartment! it's at the end of this chapter.

Tsukiyama Shuu could remember only ever having three crushes in his 24 years of life - Matsumae, who was his babysitter from the ages of two to eleven; Stoya, his favourite porn star during his teenage years; and lastly, Dr. Naomi Tsukino, his first-year sociology professor back when he was in university.

 So why couldn’t he stop thinking about his new hair stylist, Kaneki Ken?

It was a Saturday, and Tsukiyama finally had the day off. He was supposed to meet Hori and Kanae - the only two friends of his from university that had stuck around until now - for lunch at their regular ramen spot, and he was relaxing in the bath since he had a few hours before he was supposed to leave the house. The bathroom mirror was foggy to the point that it was almost opaque, and the scent of white roses and honey hung heavy in the air. Sighing in contentment, he leaned further back in the tub, allowing the hot water to unravel the knots in his muscles and soothe his frayed nerves.

    “Merde!” He shouted to himself when his mind once again began wandering to thoughts of the previous day. So much for that relaxing bath.

* * *

    _“Tsukiyama! Why haven’t you changed yet?”_

_He groaned and swiveled his chair around to meet the annoyed face of his manager._

    “As you can see, Rize, my hair is still being worked on. The beachy look isn’t the easiest to accomplish with hair as fine as mine, you know,” he replied, smiling sweetly. _Bitch_ , he thought to himself.

 Kaneki stood behind him, spraying saltwater into Tsukiyama’s hair and fighting back his amused smirk.

    “Sorry, Rize, I’m almost done. Give me another ten minutes or so,” Kaneki said, flashing her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

 Rize sighed, nodded curtly, and walked out of the changing room, heels clacking on the floor angrily as if the ceramic tiles were Tsukiyama’s face.

  Tsukiyama was scheduled for an important photoshoot that day - he would be modelling men’s swimwear for a supposedly big, upcoming brand he hadn’t heard of before. The art director wanted the set to give off the appropriate summer and fun-in-the-sun vibe, so Kaneki was tasked with making Tsukiyama’s hair look like he had just gotten out of the water at the beach.

    “It’s only my second time working with you and I’ve already been given such a difficult assignment,” Kaneki quipped, looking up from his work to meet Tsukiyama’s eyes in the mirror. He could see the anger flash in them instantly.

    “My hair isn’t difficult, idiot. I simply inherited my mother’s fine, silky hair. Most people would kill for it, you know. It’s better than yours, at least. Who even dyes their hair white? Are you trying to look like an old man?” He rambled, as he was prone to do when he felt like he was being attacked.

 Kaneki stopped what he was doing and stared at Tsukiyama incredulously through the mirror, before promptly bursting into laughter. His face was reddening and he could feel tears gather at the corners of his eyes, even with Tsukiyama turning around to glare at him. He was intentionally teasing him, of course, but he hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of him.

    “I was just kidding, Tsukiyama-san. Your hair is actually really nice, it almost feels like a kitten’s fur whenever I run my fingers through it. I can tell you take good care of it,” he said, smiling warmly before continuing with his work.

 Tsukiyama’s face flushed rose-red, mouth hanging open a little, at a complete loss for words. He felt shame burning behind that blush, embarrassed at his outburst and how easily his emotions controlled his mouth.  
  Before long, Kaneki placed the bottle of saltwater down and turned Tsukiyama’s chair around to examine his hair up close.

    “Hmm,” Kaneki breathed, leaning in uncomfortably close to his face. He was just inches away - so close that Tsukiyama could feel his cool breath on his own slightly clammy forehead. His pupils were blown and Tsukiyama was having difficulty regulating his breathing, much less his heart rate. Kaneki used his fingers to scrunch up some pieces of hair framing Tsukiyama’s face, working quickly with skilled hands, and Tsukiyama almost jumped out of his skin. He felt immense relief when Kaneki straightened back up to examine his work once again, lips pursed and hands on his hips.

    “That’s as beachy as I could get it. Now get changed before Rize storms in here again!” He said, grinning playfully at the model before throwing his swimsuit at him.

 Startled, Tsukiyama almost fell out of his chair in his scramble to catch the package. He watched Kaneki make his way back to his table.  
     
    “A-aren’t you going to leave?” He stuttered.

    “Hmm?” Kaneki said distractedly, “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just packing my stuff up.”

 Tsukiyama’s heart hammered in his chest, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he thought of having to change in front of Kaneki. He stared at his back, bent over the dressing table, placing the tools one by one back into his bag. Seeing that he had no choice, Tsukiyama swallowed his nervousness and began to undress as quickly as he could. He took his simple black V-neck shirt off, being careful not to disturb his meticulously-styled hair, and was in the process of sliding his belt out of the loops and pulling his pants down when Kaneki turned around. They both froze.

    “Oh… s-sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” Kaneki stammered, eyes lingering on Tsukiyama’s chest for a second too long before whirling back around to face the wall.

Tsukiyama hurriedly pulled his pants and briefs down after his heart started working again, grabbing the swimwear out of the plastic bag and tugging it on. It was tailored to his measurements, so the bottoms fit snugly around his hips, leaving his upper body bare.

    “You can turn around now,” he said quietly.

 Kaneki did as told, but avoided looking straight at him. They both walked out of the dressing room and made their way to the set, where Rize was waiting with her arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground impatiently.

    “Fucking _finally_ ,” she muttered as they approached. “I sent the set assistant home for breaking one of the props - that fucking  _idiot_ \- so you’ll be taking over his responsibilities, Kaneki.”

 Kaneki sighed, figuring there was no point in arguing with a woman like her.

    “Sure, what am I supposed to do?”

    “Here,” she said, shoving a spray bottle of water into his hands. “You just have to spray Shuu’s body with this every time the photographer tells you to. Make it look like there’s a light sheen of sweat   covering him. It’s for sexual appeal or whatever.”   
  
She walked off to have a word with the art director, and then made her way towards the exit, waving goodbye to them as she left.

    “Alright, Tsukiyama-san. Come on,” Kaneki said, leading him towards the green screen on set. Kaneki began spraying the water all over his torso, using his hands to wipe off the areas where excess water gathered.

  Tsukiyama had never really believed in neither gods nor devils, but his heart palpitations and Kaneki’s cool, slightly calloused hands gliding along his abs proved to him that Satan was, in fact, real, and his personal agenda consisted of tormenting Tsukiyama until his poor little heart gave up and he dropped dead.

* * *

    Kaneki laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as the remnants of sleep gradually cleared from his mind. He had been awake for barely fifteen minutes, and thoughts of a certain purple-haired model had already started assaulting his mind. Images of a lithe body, moderately-toned abs, and dusty pink nipples - all covered in a sheen of sweat - raced through his mind, flicking from one visual to the next like an erotic flip-book. He groaned softly, rubbing at his eyes as if that would somehow stop the onslaught of images. He turned his head to look at his alarm clock. _10:00 AM_. Hide wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. Touka was out for brunch with her high school friend, Yoriko, and wouldn’t be back until noon.

  Kaneki burrowed himself deeper into his blanket, one hand snaking up his shirt to trail across his stomach, gradually making its way to his nipples. Using his thumb, he stroked a line from his left nipple to his right, squirming slightly and rubbing circles around it. Meanwhile, his mind was playing snippets of sexual fantasies involving Tsukiyama, trying to imagine what he looked like under those swim trunks. He could feel his cock hardening and beginning to strain against his boxers as he continued playing with his nipples, body writhing around in the sheets and head turned to the side, his chin digging into his shoulder.

Deciding that he had teased himself enough, he let his right hand trail down his stomach and then to his erection, palming and squeezing himself until he was gasping lowly. His eyes were closed, eyebrows knitted in frustration as his left hand continued pinching and rubbing his nipples while his right hand inched its way into his boxers to pull his cock out. He began loosely stroking himself - he wanted this to last, and _dear god_ it felt so good.

    “KANEKI!” Hide exclaimed, slamming his door open.

 Kaneki nearly convulsed from the shock and inadvertently squeezed himself so hard, he winced. He managed to gather enough of his wits to shoot Hide a glare.

    “What the fuck, Hide! There’s this thing the Egyptians were said to have invented, called doors, and they are there to provide privacy. Typically people will knock if-”

    “I don’t care about your Egyptians, man! The guy who is supposed to check the place out called me and said he’d be here in like half an hour, we have to clean the main areas right now!” Hide interrupted, eyes frantic.

 Kaneki glanced at his alarm clock. It read 10:22 AM.

    “Wait, what? Wasn’t the guy supposed to come at noon?” Kaneki asked, irritation being replaced with genuine confusion.

    “Yeah, or so he said. Dude decided to come early, I guess. He didn’t explain on the phone or give me a chance to reply…” Hide trailed off. “Oh my god, Kaneki… were you _masturbating_?”

 He looked down to see that his shirt was still pushed up his chest, almost revealing his nipples but not quite. His eyes widened in horror and he yanked his shirt down, face reddening in embarrassment.

Hide continued to stare at him for a moment more before hastily retreating out the door and closing it.

    “Just come out and help me clean once you’ve… taken care of yourself,” Hide called out from behind the door.

  Kaneki wanted to die. As he was pulling his boxers over his now-limp cock and dragging himself out of bed, he regarded his open window. _I wonder if jumping from the 12th floor would be enough to kill me…_ he wondered half-seriously as he pulled a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans from his closet. Dressing himself hastily, he made his way to the bathroom to wash up before helping Hide clean the apartment.

* * *

Hide and Kaneki finished cleaning before Touka arrived home. She carried a plastic bag full of groceries in each hand, and gasped when she walked through the door and regarded the nearly sparkling-clean apartment.

    “Wow, you guys can really clean when you want to, huh?” Touka mused, setting the grocery bags on the little island. She heard the TV on in the living room along with the muted voices of the boys talking, and she put her purchases away before making her way to join them. As she approached she could hear them more clearly - their voices sounded annoyed. Hide spotted her first and stopped talking, which prompted Kaneki to glance up.

    “Oh, hey Touka! You’re home a little early,” he said after checking his phone for what must have been the hundredth time.

 She made her way to the couch and sat down in the empty seat next to Hide, noting the way he stiffened slightly.

    “Yeah, Yoriko ended up feeling sick after we ate, so I got her some meds and dropped her off at home before going grocery shopping. Oh, by the way, Hide,” she said, poking his arm lightly, “Remember those cookies you wanted but couldn’t find anywhere? I found the last two boxes at this new grocery store, so I got them for you.”

 Hide looked up at her, baffled, before his mouth slowly curved into a smile. Touka had a funny way of apologizing.

    “Awesome! Thanks, Touka!” He returned, placing his hand on her forearm for the briefest moment.

    “Where is this guy? Jesus, if you say you’re going to come at a certain time…” Kaneki muttered, leaning back until his head hit the back of the couch, not noticing the puzzled look Touka gave him.

    “The guy who was coming to see the apartment today - Neko? Neki? - called to say he’d be early, but it’s almost noon and he’s still not here,” supplied Hide.

    “Huh. Maybe he’s running late or somet-” Touka was cut off when there was a loud knock at the door.

    “Speak of the fucking _devil_ ,” Kaneki said, standing up and making his way towards the door. Hide and Touka followed behind him.

 As they approached the door, they heard muffled voices coming from the other side.

    “Are you sure it’s this one, Naki?”

    “I think I would know! I talked to the guy on the phone! 1201, look, it says right here!”

 The three flatmates exchanged looks before Touka pulled the door open to reveal two blonde-haired men, both wearing all white. The one with the longer hair appeared to be wearing thick, black eyeliner.

    _Ooh, so edgy,_ Kaneki thought sarcastically, still cranky about having his morning fun interrupted, especially knowing it was due to this guy.

    “Oh. Hi. Hey! I’m Naki!” He said, grabbing Touka’s hand to shake it enthusiastically.

 Touka was absolutely taken aback by the young man’s eccentric behaviour, while Hide and Kaneki approached to shake his hand as well.

    “It’s nice to finally meet you, Naki! Come in, we’ll show you around.” Hide led the pair into the apartment as Touka shut the door, staring at the other man who hadn’t introduced himself.

 They all made their way into the kitchen, and Naki promptly began touching the counter-tops and opening the fridge to peer inside.

    “Umm…” Kaneki began, “Well, this is the kitchen. Those counters aren’t real granite, by the way, hehe,” he chuckled awkwardly.

 Naki didn’t seem to hear him - he was busy examining something about the dining table up close. After a few moments, he walked out of the kitchen and made his way down the hall towards the living room. The other, much larger man with him followed. The three flatmates once again exchanged confused looks before following the pair, who seemed to be showing themselves around.

 The shorter man was standing in front of the TV, staring at the screen and the flashing images.

    “Is that Shu Penguin?” He suddenly exclaimed, watching a Maybelline commercial intently.

    “Shu Pei Qin, Naki,” the taller one corrected. “She’s your favourite, you should remember her name by now.”

 Naki ignored him and continued watching.

  Hide cleared his throat, gaining the larger man’s attention.

    “So Naki, your room would be over here,” he said, walking over to the door at the end of the hall.

 At that, Naki straightened up and almost ran after Hide.

    “Wow, it’s so big! Look, Yamori! There’s a bathroom in here!” Naki practically bounced over to the ensuite bathroom.

    “Oh, so your name is Yamori. Nice to meet you!” Kaneki said, extending his hand towards the man.

 Yamori took his hand and shook it curtly before following Naki into the bathroom.

    “Um, we’ll give you some time alone to look around and decide. You can find us in the living room once you’re done,” said Hide as he exited the room, followed by Touka and then Kaneki.

 They sat together on the couch in silence, waiting for the two men to finish looking around. Shortly after, Naki and Yamori joined them in the living room, and the three stood up quickly.

    “So, what did you think of the place? Oh, by the way, the room is only for one person…” Hide trailed off nervously, too afraid to meet Yamori’s eyes.

 Yamori stared hard at Hide. Kaneki and Touka pretended not to notice and trained their eyes on some distant, suddenly interesting object.

    “I know. Here’s first and last month’s rent,” Yamori said, fishing out his wallet and pulling several bills out. “Cash is fine, I assume?”

  Hide’s eyes widened in surprise, and he reached out to take the small wad of cash.

    “Yeah, uh, thanks…”

    “He’ll be moving in on Monday. Give me the lease papers,” Yamori said bluntly.

  Kaneki ran to grab the papers from his room, and after signing everything, Yamori got up to leave. Naki scrambled after him, clutching his copy of the lease to his chest.

    “Thanks, you guys, I’ll see you on Monday!” Naki exclaimed as he made his way out the door.

 Kaneki, Hide, and Touka simultaneously slumped down onto the couch after the pair had left, staring at the floor in silence.

  
   Their new flatmate was going to be very interesting to live with.

* * *

**apartment layout**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: almost 3k words! i had so much fun with this chapter (especially kaneki's masturbation scene jesus.. can you tell i enjoy writing him masturbating?)  
> room 1201 - hanged man (12) + magician (01) i'm ishida trash i'm sorry  
> i tried (TRIED) to go for a more funny, light-hearted chapter here. let me know how you like it? 
> 
> translations:  
> merde - shit (i'm sure most of you know, but just in case!)  
> colocataire - flatmate


	4. cauchemar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: bulimia, past child sexual and physical abuse; nothing too graphic but please do not read this chapter if you have any worry of being triggered.
> 
> tsukiyama and kaneki unknowingly get invited to the same launch party  
> naki and kaneki are bros  
> kaneki tries to help walking-fashion-disaster hide

Tsukiyama was kneeling in front of the toilet, two fingers poised to activate his gag reflex while his free hand gathered his hair back, when he heard his phone go off. Chopin’s _Fantaisie-Impromptu_ drifted into his bathroom, and with an impatient sigh, he stood up and made his way to the adjoining bedroom. He walked over to his bed and snatched his phone from the clutches of frilly, white sheets.

    “Hello?” He snapped into the phone, sounding a bit harsher than he had intended. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hello. It’s Shuu.”

    “Well good evening to you too, dear. Anyway, good news,” came the familiar voice of his manager. “Renji absolutely adored your shots from that photoshoot, and he’s hosting a party this Friday to celebrate the launch of his new line. We were invited!”

 Tsukiyama hadn’t heard Rize sound that excited in a while - it was off-putting, to say the least.

    “Renji?” He asked, trying to place the name and drawing blanks.

    “The designer of that swimsuit you modelled a few weeks ago, Tsukiyama. Jesus, where’s your head? There’ll be some big names there, this is a great chance for you to move up in this industry,” Rize said seriously. "Maybe I can finally get Renji in my bed..." she muttered mostly to herself. 

 Tsukiyama ignored that last bit and clicked his tongue, annoyed that she had made a valid point. He didn’t particularly have any prior engagements on the day of the party, but he was still a little apprehensive. Despite being a model, he was not too fond of being in excessively large crowds, and so he mostly stuck to photoshoots and commercials rather than fashion shows.

    “I heard Juuzou is going,” she said, smirk evident in her voice.

 Tsukiyama’s grip on his phone tightened, jaw clenching at the mention of that name. _Juuzou_. With his porcelain skin, hair the colour of ivory, and androgynous appearance, he was one of Tokyo’s most in-demand models. This naturally made him one of Tsukiyama’s enemies.

    “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll see you there.”

    "I knew you'd come ar-"

 He hit the end button, not wanting to hear whatever she was about to say. His phone buzzed seconds later, signalling that he had a new text message. From Rize. He groaned, swiping her name to read the message.  

    _Asshole. As I was about to say, check your email for the time and address. Don’t be fucking late._

* * *

    Hide slammed his head back, feeling it hit the back of the couch. He wished it was made of cement. There he was, trying to watch a new documentary about aliens that he had been looking forward to for weeks, when he heard muffled moaning and what sounded like slapping coming from Naki’s room. Seconds later, a loud thud. Grabbing the headphones that were forever bound to his neck, he slipped them over his ears and turned the TV’s subtitles on.

  It had been nearly three weeks since Naki moved in. He did not bring much with him, save for a large box of clothes, a bed, and a small desk. The day after he moved in, Yamori - who turned out to be Naki’s partner - brought another small cardboard box with him. Sticking out of the top of the box was what appeared to be a large spatula. Hide had made the mistake of asking whether or not what was inside said box was kitchen supplies; Yamori’s answering glare was enough to make him almost swallow his own tongue. He shivered slightly at the memory.

 Suddenly, the door to Naki’s room slammed open, revealing a smiling Yamori. As soon as he noticed Hide, his expression was replaced with a scowl. Hide squeaked almost audibly and snapped his gaze to the ground, deciding to count to thirty before he even dared look up again. He whispered _twenty-two_ to himself before his counting was cut short when he felt a weight jump onto the couch and a pair of legs stretched out across his lap.

    “Hiiide! I’m bored, what are you watching?” Naki whined, stretching his body further to take up more space on the couch.

 Hide gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. _I can’t hurt him. I can’t. I value my life. His boyfriend would rip me atom from atom. Breathe, relax_ , he repeated in his head before answering with a false cheerfulness that only he could fabricate.

    “It’s a documentary about aliens, Naki. If you’re quiet, you can watch with me!” He said, voice almost cracking on the word _quiet_. He was sure that the word was not part of the other blonde’s vocabulary.

    “I don’t believe in that extra-territorial crap,” Naki said, crossing his arms and sticking his nose up. “I wanna watch the Food Network! I’m so hungry I could eat a whore!”

 Hide dug his nails into the palm of his hand.

    “Why would you watch that if you’re hungry? How about you order some pizza or something, Kaneki should be home soon and he loves pizza, he’ll be super happy,” he reasoned, hoping Naki would take the bait.

 Hide sent a silent prayer of thanks to whichever deity was listening, watching Naki nod excitedly and run to the kitchen. He heard him fumble with the cordless phone, and a moment later, the most enthusiastic pizza-ordering he’d ever heard in his life.

    “Extra cheese! Pepperoni and bacon and ham, LOTS of it, cheesy crust is very important, put some ext-” Naki was rambling, talking too fast for the poor soul on the other end. “DON’T interrupt me! Like I was saying, I want extra sauce!”

 Hide heard Naki continue yelling into the phone, listing off their address and payment method, and settled deeper into the couch, finally able to enjoy the documentary.

    “I’m home!” Kaneki called out, walking through the front door. “Hey Naki!”

    “Kaniki!” Naki squealed, running straight into Kaneki’s arms..

  Within the first week, Kaneki and Naki had grown surprisingly close; Kaneki’s protective streak took over and he felt a need to care for the naive man. He was like the little brother Kaneki had never had. Naki had even formed a new nickname for Kaneki, who was four years older than the twenty-year-old blonde. He had thought it was brilliant when he put 'Kaneki' and 'aniki' together to form 'Kaniki', and since the older man didn’t seem to mind, the name had stuck.

   Kaneki hugged him back before making his way to the living room, Naki following close behind.

    “I ordered some pizza, Kaniki! Hide told me you’d be happy coming home to pizza… but you came home too early…” He trailed off, staring at the ground with his eyebrows knitted in frustration.

    Kaneki laughed lightly. “It’s okay, Naki, I’m still happy about the pizza, even if it’s not a surprise anymore,” he said, throwing Naki a smile before glancing at Hide.

    “Hey Hide, is Touka home yet?” He said, prodding the blonde’s arm.

 Hide finally looked over at Kaneki; he had been too engrossed in the documentary to notice that he was even home.

    “Oh, hey! Sorry, man, this documentary is too good. Anyway, she’s at Yoriko’s I think,” he replied, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Why, what’s up?”

    “Ah, nothing… it’s just that I was invited to this launch party on Friday and was going to ask her to go with me,” Kaneki answered

 Hide tensed. “A launch party? For what? I could go with you if you want,” he offered quickly, hoping his motives weren’t too obvious.

    “Oh.. yeah! I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with going to an event like that, but if you’re down for it, I’d love for you to come!” He said enthusiastically. “It’s for some new clothing brand my uncle is releasing, I think. He didn’t really tell me all the details, but he’s an aspiring fashion designer and a pretty cool guy; we used to be really close back when I was in high school. It’ll be fun.”

 Hide had his mind set on going as soon as he learned that Kaneki would take Touka otherwise, but he listened and pretended to be excited about it.

    “That sounds cool, looking forward to it.”

    “What about me?” Naki whined, head snapping back to stare at Kaneki. He had been listening to their conversation quietly, and looking back and forth between the two men every time each one spoke.

 Kaneki scratched his cheek, guilt blooming in his chest. He hadn’t considered the possibility that Naki would want to come.

    “Ah… I’m sorry, Naki, I can only take one person and already agreed to take Hide…” He said cautiously; the last thing he wanted was to make the boy cry.

 Luck was not on his side today. Naki’s eyes began watering, lower lip trembling slightly. Kaneki scrambled for words to stop the dam from breaking, while Hide reverted his attention to the TV.

    “Uh.. uhm! W-wait! Naki, I… I’ll take you out for ice cream Friday morning! Please don’t cry. You can get as many scoops as you want!” He said hastily, hoping it wasn’t too late. For good measure, he went over and began stroking the blonde’s hair.

 Naki looked up at him, eyes still brimming with tears but seemingly in control. He nodded slowly before wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing his eyeshadow in the process.

  Kaneki sighed in relief. Although Naki crying was a common occurrence, he still disliked seeing it; even if the blonde was naive and sometimes frustrating to deal with, there was a true kindness at his core that Kaneki did not see in people often. The first time he realized this was when he caught Naki hand-feeding a bird that had landed on their balcony railing, serene smile stretched across his face, gazing at the bird as if it was the only thing in the world at that moment.

    “Come on Naki, you should wash off that smudged makeup,” he said gently, guiding the blonde to his room.

* * *

    It was the evening of the launch party, and Kaneki was standing in front of his bathroom mirror in nothing but briefs, smoothing concealer under his eyes to cover the purplish hollow that had formed from his sleepless night. On top of the lack of sleep, he had had to deal with a very energetic Naki that morning, who was knocking at his door at 9 AM and singing about ice cream.   
   Kaneki hadn’t had a sleepless night in a while. His nightmares, which had left him alone to blissful sleep for almost a year, had suddenly reappeared, twisting and warping childhood memories he had managed to keep submerged just below his consciousness. He felt his hands shake slightly, hovering under his eyes, as he recalled the most vivid aspects of the nightmare.

    _Unforgiving, calloused hands ran up and down his bare legs, making their way up to his still-developing manhood. He was being touched in a place a boy of five years should never be touched, much less by someone twenty-five years his senior. Emotions raged and swirled inside him - fear, arousal, rage, shame, hopelessness… love; too many conflicting feelings for such a young psyche. Despite the confusion clouding his mind, his physiological reaction was immediate, body recoiling from the touch. That same hand retracted for a second, then was suddenly brought down across the side of his face._  
 _He felt the shock before he felt the sting of the slap, and tears gathered at his eyes as he hung his head, defeated._  
  
 _‘That’s a good boy, don't try to fight me. Mommy just wants to show you how much she loves you.’_  
  


      He started when he heard a loud knock at the door, being pulled back to reality.

    “Kaneki! I’m coming in!” Hide called from the other side of the door.

 He blinked back the few tears that had formed behind his lids, hastily wiping all traces of torment from his face.

Hide found him in the bathroom and whistled lowly.

    “Going to the party in just that, eh?” He teased.

  Kaneki did his best to glare playfully at his comment, walking past him to grab the clothes he had laid out on his bed.

    “Show up half-naked and steal the show? I’m not that cruel,” he retorted, slipping on fitted black jeans and a black dress shirt. He paused when he noticed Hide’s outfit. “Hide, you can’t be serious,” he muttered disapprovingly.

    “What?” He exclaimed. “What’s wrong with it? Just because I’m not into your stupid goth chic or whatever...” he grumbled.

    “It’s not goth chic, Hide, it’s fashion. That aside, green cargo pants and a bright yellow sweater? To a launch party?” He asked, almost disbelieving. “Oh my god, and those fucking headphones too!”

 Hide protested loudly as Kaneki began pushing him towards his own room, repeating over and over that his outfit was “just fine”. He discarded his objections as Kaneki made him sit down, going over to rustle through his closet for more appropriate clothing. He began pulling shirts off the hangers, casting them disapproving glances before he placed them back.

    “Goddamnit Hide, do you own anything besides T-shirts and faded jeans?” He groaned, moving on to the plastic box that was in the corner of the closet. “ _Aha!_ ” He exclaimed as he lifted the lid off and began picking out the new-looking clothes.

    “Wait, Kaneki, no! Those are my work clothes from when I had to work at my dad’s company that one summer!” He whined, remembering how much he used to hate how uncomfortable they were.

  Kaneki ignored his protests, pulling out a pair of black pants - with the tags still attached - and a fitted, slate-gray dress shirt.

    “This would look great on you! We need to balance out the bright hair, you know,” he teased, padding over to the bed and placing the clothes next to Hide. “Wait! This would look even better with my cardigan. Give me a sec.”

  Hide had no time to reply before Kaneki hurried off to his own room. He returned moments later, holding a navy blue cardigan.

    “Here, go change into these,” Kaneki said, placing all the clothes in Hide’s arms and ushering him into the bathroom. He went without a fight - there was no point arguing with Kaneki when it came to things like this.

  He emerged from the bathroom a minute later, grimacing at how awkward the pants felt. He looked up to see Kaneki smiling at him.  
  
    “See? So much better. You look great,” he beamed. “Now let’s get going, we’re gonna be late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't planning on making this so long, so i'm moving the whole party scene to the next chapter. i know, i know, this chapter is late and this story is moving quite slowly. i'll try to speed it up a little next chapter, i just don't want their relationships to seem forced and out of nowhere!  
> once again, your comments/criticisms would be greatly appreciated (.. are those cricket noises?)
> 
> translations:  
> cauchemar - nightmare


	5. chasseur et proie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter is super late, I got really busy with annoying uni stuff. Anyway, this chapter is like 10 pages long to make up for not updating, and there's finally real smut and progression. Finally.

    Tsukiyama arrived at the Dai-Ichi Hotel at half past six, pulling into a space in the underground parking lot, seeing several expensive cars parked in the surrounding spaces. He pushed open the car’s door and swung his legs out, stretching them languidly; it had taken him nearly an hour to drive to the hotel due to the evening traffic, and he gritted his teeth as he remembered an especially unpleasant driver that had cut him off. Twice. He had directed his anger at his car’s horn, smashing his palm against it as if he could physically hurt the offending driver by doing so.

He sighed as he exited and locked the car, and then dusted off his suit - black-on-black with a burgundy dress shirt and white tie peeking through - in case it had magically gotten dirty while driving. Tsukiyama was nervous about making a good first impression on the potentially famous connections he would have the chance to meet today, and so he had woken up early to try on various outfits before finally settling on the sleek suit. He was also glad he had predicted the traffic and left much earlier than he had to.

  He checked his watch. _6:37 PM_. He wouldn’t be meeting Rize for at least another twenty-three minutes, so he decided to explore the building in the meantime. He walked the short distance to the elevator and was about to hit the button for the main floor, when he saw a tall man in a gray coat running towards the open door.

    “Hold the door, please!” The man called out, running into the elevator moments later. “Thanks.”

 Tsukiyama nodded and smiled pleasantly at the man before pressing the button, and then tipped his head back to watch the numbers change. Immediately, he could feel the other man staring at him; despite the discomfort he was beginning to feel, he refused to turn around and acknowledge him. That is, until the man started speaking to him.

    “You’re Tsukiyama Shuu, aren’t you?” He asked, just as the elevator door opened to the main floor. The man got off first, followed by Tsukiyama.

 Tsukiyama’s eyes widened in surprise at first, before a feeling of pride at being recognized settled in his chest. “Yes, I am. Who might you be?”

    “...” The man stared at him for a moment, baffled and a bit offended, until both were replaced by amusement. “I’m Yomo. Renji Yomo.” He extended his hand towards the other man.

 Tsukiyama flinched as if he had been slapped - that was how surprised he was. The other man - Yomo the fashion designer, as it turns out - looked quite plain. Sporting nothing but a black V-neck shirt and dark wash jeans underneath his long gray coat, he looked nothing like what Tsukiyama had imagined. The only things that stood out about him, besides his height, were his silvery hair and steel-gray eyes. Eyes that looked an awful lot like those of a certain hairstylist he had been trying his best not to think about…

 Catching his thoughts derailing, he snapped back to attention and grabbed Yomo’s hand to shake it, bowing a little, and apologizing profusely simultaneously.

   “I am so terribly sorry, Yomo-san! I know of you and thought what I saw of your swimwear line was _beautiful_ , I just… I had never seen a picture of you or anything, I’m ver-” He was cut off when Yomo began laughing quietly.

   “Don’t worry about it, Tsukiyama. I _am_ relatively new to this industry, after all. And a little camera-shy, might I add. Most people are pretty shocked when they learn what I do.” They continued walking across the hotel lobby, making their way to the conference room. “Don’t exactly look the part, do I?” He asked, good-natured manner immediately winning Tsukiyama over. “Speaking of the swimwear line, I’m sure Rize’s told you - I absolutely loved the photos, and we’re thinking of making them into posters for store windows in the near future.”

  Tsukiyama almost blushed at the praise he was receiving - he was not used to it, as neither Rize nor his family complimented him very often. “Thank you, Yomo-san. I truly do appreciate it,” he said quietly, “and I hope I can work with more of your designs in the future,” he added.

  They arrived at the conference-turned-party room and both men continued chatting about the photoshoot and Yomo’s upcoming plans. A few tables were still being set up, but the room looked incredibly well put-together. There were several round tables scattered around the large room, covered in royal-blue tablecloths; at each table, a single, ornate, silver candleholder - holding a long, white candle - was placed in the center. Surrounding the tables were upholstered chairs wrapped in white cloth, a pale silver damask pattern printed all over them.

Tsukiyama thought the colour scheme and simple elegance of the decor was beautiful, and Yomo smiled when he told him so.

    “I had such trouble picking out a colour scheme, so I’m glad you like it,” he beamed. “I kept the party smaller however, as it is the first one, so I’m worried I might have gone a bit overboard with the decor and the hotel…” He trailed off, glancing around the room.

   _This man is not even close to what I expected at all, appearance or personality-wise_ , Tsukiyama thought. He found Yomo’s excessive worrying endearing, and his quiet way of speaking and laughing made him feel relaxed in the man’s presence.

    “Everything is perfect, don’t worry, Yomo-san. The launch party is going to cause a lot of buzz about you, I can feel it!” He insisted. “Look, there are already a few guests at the door!”

 The guests - two women wearing matching dresses, one in white and the other in black - approached them. Yomo greeted them and shook their hands, turning to introduce them to Tsukiyama.

    “Thank you ladies so much for coming. This is Tsukiyama Shuu, one of the models for the swimwear line,” he said, turning both women’s attention to him. “Tsukiyama, this is Kurona and Nashiro Yasuhisa. They’re twins and run a women’s clothing line together,” he added, indicating with his hand who each twin was.

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said charmingly, flashing them a smile. _It’s okay, Tsukiyama Shuu. You can do this. Be cool_ , he reminded himself. _Only five more hours of these introductions._

 The twins simply nodded, shook his hand, and then walked off together to find a table. Tsukiyama was slightly taken aback by their behaviour, and noticing this, Yomo placed a hand on his shoulder.

    “Don’t take it personally. That’s just how they are,” he assured, leading Tsukiyama in the direction of the bar. “You seem a bit nervous, possibly even more than me. How about a drink?”

 Tsukiyama nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, _please_. To be honest, I _am_ a little anxious,” he said, as he turned to the bartender and asked for a peach bellini. After Yomo ordered his drink ( _whiskey on the rocks, Tsukiyama noted with no surprise_ ) he continued, “I’m not too comfortable in large crowds, especially when my manager is forcing me to socialize and make connections.”

  Yomo leaned against the bar’s small counter, smiling sympathetically at the other man.

    “I’m sad to say I’m not surprised at all. Rize can be a bit… forceful, to say the least. In all the years I’ve known her, I can assure you that she has always been like that, and not just towards you, either.” Tsukiyama was surprised at how familiar the other man seemed to be with Rize.

Their drinks were handed to them then, and Tsukiyama immediately started working on his. Yomo took small sips as he watched the other curiously.

“You look like you have a lot of questions. Rize and I actually met back when I was still a mortuary assistant; her father had died and the funeral was being held at the funeral home I was working at. We started talking when she came in to discuss casket options and th- Oh, speak of the devil!” He teased, stopping mid-sentence as he saw Rize walking towards him.

   _This… this man used to be a mortician’s assistant?_ Tsukiyama exclaimed in his mind, absolutely baffled for the second time that night. He decided he would ask more about this story when they could once again talk privately.

 Rize was dressed in a black, figure-hugging dress, lace insert showing off her ample cleavage. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head, secured with an embossed silver clip. Even Tsukiyama was a little awed by how beautiful she looked.

    “ _Yomo!_ ” She sang, going in to give him a hug. Tsukiyama watched as Yomo planted a friendly kiss on her cheek and he snapped his gaze to the floor, shocked.

 _What in the fuck am I witnessing…_ He thought, staring wide-eyed at the floor as the other two chatted happily. For all he knew up until now, Rize was truly Satan-spawn and seemed to hate everyone, especially men. He witnessed first-hand how she would treat some of the employees under her command, particularly the assistants, and was often on the receiving end of such treatment himself. If Rize simply wanted to shag Yomo that would be more understandable - he’s seen her seduce men to get what she wanted so it would only be natural, but this complete change in her behaviour was making him a little dizzy.  

    “Tsukiyama.” She addressed him curtly, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re supposed to be socializing, not sulking in a corner with a drink in hand.”

Tsukiyama was about to retort that there weren’t any patrons for him to talk to yet, but as he glanced around the room, he noticed it beginning to fill up as guests filed in through the door. He checked his watch and noted it was a little past seven now; he groaned silently, dreading the rest of the night that will surely leave him drained for at least the next few days.

    “I’m going to go welcome some of the guests, I’ll see you later on!” Yomo called, already making his way through the steadily-growing crowd.

 Tsukiyama turned to Rize and noticed her despondent expression, but before he could say anything, her eyes shot up to meet his and she scowled.

    “Come _on_ , Tsukiyama. You’re such a fucking baby. I’ll even come with you, just go talk to people,” she pestered, but he noticed that it was with much less fierceness than usual.

 He was now even more curious about her relationship with Yomo, but decided to hold his tongue, fearing he would be overstepping his boundaries. Downing the rest of his drink and reigning in his anxieties, Tsukiyama followed her as she walked towards a small group near the center of the room.

That is, until he saw a shock of white hair near the room’s entrance. His heart rate picked up considerably. _Kaneki_. He was clad in all black, figure-flattering clothing, and Tsukiyama couldn’t tear his eyes away until he felt someone pulling on his sleeve.

    “What are you staring at, you idiot? Are you already drunk?” Rize hissed as she pulled him closer. When Tsukiyama began stammering nervously, she looked over to where he had been staring, immediately noticing Kaneki’s unmistakable hair. Kaneki looked up at that moment and, noticing both of them, began making his way over.

 Tsukiyama made a beeline towards the bar, ignoring Rize as she called after him. _One goddamned peach bellini is not enough,_ he reasoned, cutting in front of the other guests and requesting two shots of vodka, the urgency clear in his voice. The bartender raised his eyebrows but poured him the shots anyway, noticing the frenzied look in Tsukiyama’s eyes. He slammed back the shots quickly, ordered another peach bellini to chase it down, and thanked the man with a ¥1000 tip. As he was putting his wallet back in his pocket, he felt someone come up next to him and froze.

    “Fancy seeing you here, Tsukiyama-san,” Kaneki remarked, walking up to the bar. “I’ll have a rum and Coke, please. Oh, and a Tequila Sunrise,” he said to one of the bartenders, a younger man with unkempt, indigo hair. He was eyeing the oblivious Kaneki with interest as he handed him the drinks, and Tsukiyama glared helplessly at the man, who hadn’t noticed and went back to serving the other guests.

    “I’d say it’s more of a surprise seeing _you_ here. Why were you invited?” He said, crossing his arms and looking off into the crowd. He didn’t think he could handle looking at Kaneki when he, well, looked like that. After the swimsuit photoshoot and the subsequent ones, he found that he felt nervous around the other man and even went as far as avoiding him whenever he could. That was easier said than done, however, considering the fact that Kaneki was his hairstylist and he had to see him every time he had a shoot.

  Kaneki looked offended by his words before his expression smoothed over into a smile.

    “Yomo-san is my uncle,” he said simply, biting his lip to hold back laughter as Tsukiyama tried not to choke on his drink.

    “There you are, Kaneki!” Tsukiyama turned to see a blonde-haired boy ( _what a terrible dye job,_ he thought) stroll over to them, looking slightly annoyed. “You said you would wait by the entrance!” He scolded, pocketing his car keys as Kaneki handed him his drink.

    “A Tequila Sunrise! Man, you know me so well,” rejoiced the blonde, forgetting his irritation and grinning as he took a long sip. “Who’s this?” He questioned, turning his attention to Tsukiyama.

 Tsukiyama was irritated by this _boy_. He convinced himself it was only because of his overly-cheerful behaviour.

    “ _I’m_ Tsukiyama Shuu. And you are…?” He questioned indignantly, looking the other man up and down. He froze when he noticed what the blonde was wearing. He recognized that cardigan… _That was Kaneki’s cardigan!_ He had seen him wear it to work several times, and his thoughts began racing as his mind flipped through all the possibilities of what this could mean. Tsukiyama, with him being who he is, jumped to conclusions rather quickly.  

  _This boy… with an abomination for a dye job… is Kaneki’s_ boyfriend, Tsukiyama thought incredulously. His hands began trembling slightly at the thought, and he could feel his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. The confusion over his reactions clouded his mind and he worried that he would blurt out something mortifying if he did not leave immediately.

    “I have to go,” he cut off the blonde boy curtly, whirling around and walking off to find Rize. He gulped his drink down as he made his way through the crowd.

    “Eh? What was that about?” Hide asked, looking slightly bewildered as he turned to Kaneki, who had his eyes trained on Tsukiyama’s back as it weaved through the throng of people. The blonde saw something in his friend’s expression that looked almost _predatory_ , like a lion watching a wildebeest, and he filed this observation away for later questioning.

  Kaneki returned his gaze to Hide, smiling awkwardly to show that he was just as confused.

    “I have no idea…” He responded, scratching at his chin. “Anyway, let’s go find my uncle,” he muttered, downing the rest of his drink and leading a suspicious Hide towards the back of the room.

* * *

    Tsukiyama was absolutely livid, rage boiling in his stomach, making him grit his teeth on and off throughout the night. He had found Rize sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by attentive men and envious women, and managed to contain his anger as she directed the table’s attention towards him.

    “Ah, Tsukiyama! Lovely of you to finally join us,” she said lightly, giggling as she glanced around the table. “Come, sit.” She patted the chair next to her, which had been seating her purse up until now.

 Tsukiyama smiled at the guests, seating himself elegantly and folding his hands in his lap. Now the expressions were swapped - women straightened up and stared at him while the men glared, envying his seat next to the beautiful Rize. He smirked inwardly, wondering just how fast the men would run if they knew what her true personality was like.

  He flinched in pain when he felt a sharp kick at his ankle, and turned to see Rize smiling as if nothing had happened. Taking the cue and not wanting her to do worse, he began introducing himself to each person at the table, exchanging names and shaking hands until he felt his face hurting from all the forced smiles. He tried to file away each name and occupation in his long-term memory; even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to recall them a week later, he would at least try.

 Rize and Tsukiyama moved from table to table, introducing themselves and occasionally exchanging business cards, stopping for no more than ten minutes to make light conversation. He was adamant about avoiding the opposite side of the room, where Kaneki and the blonde were seated, and Rize finally agreed with him after much arguing.

When the food was starting to be served, they began making their way back to their own table. Tsukiyama almost froze in his tracks when he saw a head of white hair seated at his table, but resumed walking when he realized it was Juuzou; even _he_ was better than dealing with Kaneki right now. Rize was practically shaking with excitement next to him, leaning over to whisper harshly in his ear as they continued walking.

    “We’re lucky enough to have Juuzou seated at the same table as us, Tsukiyama, so don’t fuck this up.” He rolled his eyes at her and took his seat, smiling politely at everyone and introducing himself to the white-haired model.

    “Juuzou Suzuya! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he chimed, extending his hand. The other man took it, shaking it briefly before returning to his conversation with the woman seated next to him.

She appeared to be absolutely captivated by his soft, lilting voice, gazing at him as he blabbered on and on about all of his recent photoshoots and fashion shows. Tsukiyama looked on with disgust, wondering how anyone could be interested in such dull conversation, feeling new anger flare up and rekindling the anger from earlier. He tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths, gaze focused on his lap.

    “So, Juuzou, I heard you were going to do some modelling for Yomo in the near future?” Rize interrupted, ignoring the nasty look the woman shot her.

 Juuzou turned around slowly, smiling at Rize. “Yes, I am. I don’t usually take on contracts for smaller designers,” he scoffed, “but since Yomo is a good friend of my manager, I agreed to do it.”

  Tsukiyama’s eyebrows raised in surprise at how utterly rude he was being, turning to stare at his own manager, trying to gauge her reaction. Her smile remained in place.

    “That’s so sweet of you. Tsukiyama Shuu here,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder, “is one of Yomo’s favourites so far. You’re going to have to compete with him for Yomo’s attention!” She giggled, smile wide but eyes almost challenging the man.

 Juuzou paused, smile faltering for a bit before he grinned broadly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he joked, eyeing Tsukiyama.

    “Ahaha! You’re right, I couldn’t even compete with you, Juuzou. You look even _prettier_ in person, almost like a girl,” he sneered, enjoying the way the white-haired man’s ears tinged red in fury.

 Despite his androgynous appearance, he knew the man angered easily when he was called effeminate - Rize had told him so months ago after she heard from Juuzou’s manager that he had attacked a photographer for saying he looked “too girly”. He felt a little ashamed for stooping so low, and he had a feeling that the alcohol was responsible, but both Rize’s and Juuzou’s expressions were worth it in his mind. Rize looked surprised, eyebrows raised, while the white-haired model looked absolutely livid. After a moment of awkward silence, Juuzou pushed his chair back harshly and stood up to leave the table, throwing Tsukiyama a glare before departing.

  Tsukiyama smiled sweetly and gave him a small wave.

    “That was quite bold of you, Tsukiyama,” Rize remarked, “I’m… shocked and a little impressed.”

  Tsukiyama scoffed. “Whatever. He was being an asshole, and that’s how you deal with assholes - you pick at their biggest insecurity.”

    “Wow, you might be worse than me,” she teased.

  As he turned to glare at her, a wave of nausea hit him, making him feel light-headed and on the verge of throwing up. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered, quickly excusing himself from the table and making a beeline to a bathroom he had seen on his walk to the conference room.  
He walked swiftly, ignoring a few people who tried to talk to him, and shoved the bathroom door open. He figured luck was trying to make it up to him today, since the bathroom was completely empty. Pushing open one of the stall doors and kneeling in front of the toilet, he began dry heaving until he threw up some of the drinks he had had earlier. _Such an idiot for drinking all of that so fast,_ he scolded himself mentally. He could already feel a headache coming on, and he wiped the light sheen of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand before pushing himself up off the floor.

  He was rinsing out his mouth at the sink when he heard the door swing open, and froze as he turned to see who had entered the bathroom. Catching himself in the act and imagining how ridiculous he must look with his deer-in-the-headlights reaction, he quickly turned to face the mirror and washed his hands.

    “Why the cold shoulder, Tsukiyama-san?” Kaneki teased, trying to keep his tone light.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, the ice in his voice contradicting his statement.

 Kaneki sauntered up next to him, washing his hands at the adjacent sink as he glanced at Tsukiyama.

    “Oh, is that so? Seems like you’re upset with me for something,” he said as he tore out some paper towels from the dispenser next to Tsukiyama and began drying his hands. “Care to tell me what that would be?” He continued, staring up at the slightly taller model.

  Kaneki was standing uncomfortably close to him, elbows almost touching as he dried his hands.

    “. . .” He was unsure of how to reply, and he didn’t trust himself to speak in his inebriated state.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when Kaneki leaned around him to toss the wadded up paper towel into the garbage bin behind him, and he could feel his face heating up from the proximity. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, afraid to look at the other man.

  Tsukiyama looked up when he heard a soft click. Kaneki had locked the bathroom door, and turned to him with a heated gaze.

    “W-what are you doing?” He sputtered as Kaneki began walking towards him, eyes never leaving his face. Tsukiyama thought that his eyes looked a little darker, and noticed that his pupils were much more dilated than usual. He was almost shaking from how nervous he was, and he backed up against the wall as Kaneki continued advancing forward, stopping only when he could lean his left arm on the wall next to Tsukiyama. He wrapped his fingers around Tsukiyama’s tie and tugged him forward.

    “You think I haven’t _noticed_ the way you act around me?” Kaneki murmured, leaning into him further until their bodies were pressed together. “How you almost flinched every time I touched you during that swimwear photoshoot?”

 Tsukiyama could do nothing but swallow harshly, heart hammering in his chest and breathing steadily becoming more and more laboured. He tried to shift away from the other man’s body, but found that only made things worse, as his pelvis arched forward a little when he tried to lean his upper body away. He found that, now, he couldn't will himself to look away.

    “You know what _I_ think?” Kaneki asked, looking up at him through his lashes. “I think you jump to conclusions too quickly, and get jealous _far_ too easily,” he continued, gripping Tsukiyama’s hips and grinding his own forward.

 Tsukiyama bit his lip, trying to contain himself. He was having trouble even  _thinking_ straight.  
“What do you mean?” He breathed, hitting the back of his head against the wall in surprise as Kaneki began kissing his neck. He was too far gone to notice any pain.

    “Hide,” he started, grinding his hips forward again, “is one of my flatmates,” he continued, sucking harder on the pale, taut flesh of the model’s neck. “A friend and _nothing_ more.”

  Tsukiyama could just barely register what Kaneki was saying, mind more focused on containing his whimpers and the slender fingers working quickly at his shirt’s buttons. After popping out the last button, Kaneki shoved the material to either side and leaned back to admire the view, eyes raking hungrily over his frame until they came up to rest on Tsukiyama’s face. The hairstylist stared for a brief moment, before leaning in and kissing him hard, tongue shoving into his mouth and rubbing against his own, tracing over the roof of his mouth. Tsukiyama moaned and pressed his body forward as Kaneki’s fingers made their way to his nipples, alternating between rubbing them with his thumbs and adding forefingers to pinch them as he continued kissing him roughly. They both began grinding their hips together and Kaneki groaned into his mouth, leaning back to smirk at him.

    “You’re this hard already, huh?” He teased, gripping Tsukiyama through his slacks. He exhaled sharply at the pressure.

 _I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe this is happening…_ Tsukiyama kept repeating in his mind, too caught up in the moment to think about possible consequences.

 Kaneki was fumbling with the clasp on Tsukiyama’s slacks, and almost tore the zipper in his haste to pull down the model’s pants after he finally unclasped them.

    “Feels _so_ much better,” Tsukiyama groaned lowly, leaning back and jutting his hips out slightly. The part of his mind responsible for reasoning and logic had shut down, overtaken by his intense arousal.

Kaneki smirked at him before sinking down to his knees, lightly gripping Tsukiyama’s balls through his briefs and mouthing at his erection. He turned even redder and began stammering as Kaneki continued nuzzling his nose and lips against his clothed cock, feeling it twitch at the way the shorter man was looking up at him.

    “Stop teasin-” Tsukiyama began, cut off by his own hiss as Kaneki pulled down his briefs and grabbed his cock.

    “What were you saying?” He teased as he ran his tongue along the underside, slipping the head into his mouth as he reached the tip. He sucked at it enthusiastically, encouraged by the taste of precome on his tongue.

 Tsukiyama moaned lowly above him, bringing his arms forward to tangle his hands in the other’s hair. His head was tipped back, eyes closed and eyebrows knitted together, mouth slightly open.  
Kaneki thought the model was being too _quiet_ for his liking, so he made his mouth wetter before sliding more of him in his mouth, pulling back up with his cheeks hollowed and then sliding an inch further as he went back down. He continued this until he had nearly all of Tsukiyama’s cock in his mouth, feeling the stubble at the base graze his upper lip. _Of course he would shave,_ Kaneki thought absentmindedly as he continued bobbing his head back and forth, alternating between deep-throating him and using his hands to stroke him while sucking hard at the tip.

  Tsukiyama’s mind was reeling from the sensations, and he thought he would have come within seconds if he hadn’t closed his eyes. The softness of Kaneki’s lips as it brushed over his sensitive head, the warm wetness of his tongue as it slid along his dorsal vein… it was all quickly contributing to the almost unbearable pleasure building up inside him. He opened his eyes and saw Kaneki smiling up at him, sucking on his tip as his hands stroked the rest of him in fast jerks.

    “ _Fuck,_ ” he groaned, moving one hand to brush Kaneki’s bangs off of his forehead. He gripped the soft, white hair and used his hand to guide Kaneki's head back and forth, trying to control himself from pushing the other's head down too hard.

  After a few minutes, Kaneki suddenly pulled off, swooping down to gingerly suck and lick at his balls while his hand continued its fast strokes, grip almost painful but not quite.

 Tsukiyama was unravelling quickly now, his breathing harsher and face flushed. He knew he was close, and Kaneki sensed this as well, speeding up his stroking and staring up at him through his lashes.

    “C-coming!” He stuttered, a drawn-out groan escaping him as he watched his cum shoot out and spray all over Kaneki’s face.

As soon as he came down from his orgasm, Tsukiyama was mortified. He couldn’t believe it. He’d let his _hairstylist_ , someone he would be seeing often, give him a _blowjob_ in a _public bathroom_. _And_ he had ejaculated on his face. He stammered an apology as he bent down to help the other man up, who still had his eyes closed and a playful smile on his face. There was cum dripping from his nose onto his lips, and _he had a goddamn smile on his face._  
   Kaneki walked over to one of the sinks and began washing his face as Tsukiyama began putting his clothes back in order. They were both silent - one busy washing his face, the other tongue-tied and not knowing exactly what to say to a coworker who had just sucked you off in a bathroom.  
Kaneki turned the tap off and pulled some paper towels from the dispenser, drying his face.

    “So… Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked teasingly, opening his eyes to look at Tsukiyama.

 Tsukiyama gasped in shock. Kaneki’s left eye…

    “Oh god, oh _god_ … your eye is red, I’m so sorry, I got cum in your eye, oh my god I’m _so_ sorry!” Tsukiyama blabbered, hands hovering uselessly in front of him.

 Kaneki turned to look in the mirror, frowning at his reflection. “Ah. Seems like you did. Hopefully I can pass this off as an allergic reaction, or things are going to get really awkward…” He mused, pulling his lower lid down to examine his pink-tinged sclera.  
Tsukiyama stared at him, mouth agape at his indifference. Kaneki turned to him and smiled.

    “You should go back first, you’ve been gone a while.”

    “W-what about you?” Tsukiyama exclaimed, looking pointedly at the bulge in Kaneki’s pants.

    “Oh, don’t worry, we don’t have time for that right now,” he dismissed, taking out his phone and pretending to look at it.

 Tsukiyama was torn - he _had_ been gone a long time and Rize was going to give him hell, but he would feel terrible leaving Kaneki like this. Despite these conflicting feelings, looking at Kaneki typing away on his phone and ignoring him made him a little angry, and so he unlocked the door and yanked it open, walking away briskly.

  When he got back to his table, Rize glared up at him but said nothing. Yomo was at the front of the room making a speech, which sounded like it was just ending, and his manager was more focused on that. He wondered nervously just how long he had been gone - his little bathroom adventure with Kaneki had warped his sense of time. He knew he should be focusing on Yomo, but his thoughts couldn’t stop racing, focused entirely on the encounter.

 _Just what the hell was that about?_ He wondered desperately, shrinking in his seat as he saw Kaneki enter the room and walk across to his own table.  
They made eye contact for the briefest moment - a moment Kaneki took advantage of to shoot a wink Tsukiyama’s way. He stared down at his lap immediately, blushing hard, thankful that no one was paying attention to him at the moment.

  He wondered whether luck _truly_ was trying to make it up to him or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the smut! Please leave some feedback in the comments, it really works to re-inspire me every week.  
> Can you guys guess who the bartender was? (Hint: He's someone's asshole brother.)  
> What's Kaneki thinking? Why was he on his phone after sucking off his client in a public bathroom? Tune in next chapter ;o (which may or may not be late... I have finals for the next two weeks but I'm hoping to find time to write the next chapter, we'll see!)
> 
> Translations  
> chasseur et proie - hunter and prey


	6. évitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flatmates go out for brunch and notice something is very, _very_ off about Kaneki.

    It was 10:00 PM on a Saturday, and Kaneki was already in bed, faint glow from his laptop swathing his features in bluish-white light. His right hand moved furiously under the covers as he worked himself to an orgasm, eyes staring dazedly at the two guys violently fucking on the computer’s screen. He imagined himself as the top, snapping his hips forcefully into the other while twisting his fingers into their hair, occasional slap across their face ringing out loudly above the sounds of skin slapping against skin, ragged breathing, and nearly-animalistic growls. He placed his opposite hand in front of his tip as he came with a gasp and low grunt, body stiffening and then shuddering as his climax ebbed away.

 He laid still for a few minutes before the mess in his hand began cooling, and with a grimace he turned off his laptop, took his headphones off, and made the short walk to the bathroom to wash up. As he rinsed the cum off his hands, he fought off the urge to look at himself in the mirror, knowing it would evoke only one feeling - shame.

  He crawled back under the covers, pushing his laptop off to the side, and curled into fetal position as dangerous thoughts crept back into his mind. He thought about his encounter with Tsukiyama and felt a dull stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach; he hated himself for what he did, for taking advantage of someone so obviously intoxicated. He hated himself even more when he recalled how he had shrugged it off like it was nothing directly after the incident. The model’s hurt-filled eyes floated in his mind, making the stab of guilt just a little bit sharper, and yet he found a perverse sense of satisfaction and arousal at the same time.

 He wanted to see the other man’s eyes filled with an even deeper despair, wanted to beat and manipulate and humiliate him. His mind was conjuring images of a naked and quivering Tsukiyama on his knees in front of him, flinching in fear as he drew his hand back to slap his cheeks red, hard enough to make him fall backwards.

    He placed an arm over his eyes and groaned, wondering what was wrong with him. He just wanted to sleep, to forget the thoughts that would intrude his mind so easily. Sleep didn't come easy that night.

* * *

    “Come on, Kaniki!” Naki urged, linking arms with Kaneki and trying to pull him out the door before he even had his shoes on.

 Hide and Touka were already standing outside their apartment door, the former holding the keys in his hand and waiting for Kaneki so he could lock the door.

    “Coming, coming,” he muttered as he pulled back to hastily slip his shoes on and tapped his pockets to make sure he had his phone and wallet.

 It was Sunday morning and the four had agreed to go out for brunch at Touka’s insistence; she complained that they hadn’t been spending much time together lately. Naki had looked more than thrilled to agree.

   They all took the elevator to the underground parking level and climbed into Hide’s car, making the drive to the breakfast place they usually went to. As he was driving, Hide kept discreetly looking at Kaneki’s face through the rear-view mirror, worry pulling down the corners of his lips. The blonde had sensed that something was off with him ever since the launch party, but hadn’t had the chance to talk to him about it since Kaneki had locked himself away in his room for the majority of the weekend.

    “Why are you frowning like that?”

 Hide was startled out of his thoughts by Naki’s voice, who had been sitting in the passenger seat and watching the blonde’s face as it morphed from one expression to another.

Naki’s question had caught the attention of both Touka and Kaneki, and the former stared at him with a concerned expression, thinly masked by indifference.

    “What’s wrong, Hide?” Kaneki asked, leaning forward in his seat to get a better look at the other’s face. “You feeling okay? I can drive if you want.”

    “Oh, no, I’m fine! Don’t worry,” he lied, quickly reaching over to switch the radio on.

For Kaneki’s sake, he didn’t want to bring it up in front of the others. Relieved that the others seemed to believe him, he continued driving and discussed the latest documentary he had seen until they finally arrived at their destination.

 As Hide parked his car, they all went inside the restaurant and were promptly greeted by a short, chubby waitress whose smile was so bright it was almost infectious. Her hair, a vibrant shade of blue piled high on top of her head, perfectly complemented her bubbly personality.

    “Good morning! Table for three?” She guessed, lively eyes passing over each of them.

    “Four, actually. Our friend’s just parking his car!” Naki corrected. “Your hair is cool!” he added, reaching his hand forward to twirl a strand between his fingers.

 The waitress appeared to be taken aback for a moment, surprise written all over her face, before she realized Naki’s intention was completely innocent. Kaneki glanced nervously at the short woman, yanking Naki’s arm back and shooting her an apologetic expression.

    “I’m so sorry about that, he’s not very good with the concept of personal space…” He explained, pulling on the blonde man’s ear when he tried struggling in Kaneki’s grip. Naki yelped, hand flying up to cover his ear.

    “No problem at all, loves!” She assured, playfully patting Naki’s hair. “Follow me right this way to your table.”

 Hide walked in just then, nodding a greeting to the waitress before she led them to the back of the restaurant where all the larger booths were. It was a small but cozy place, with five booths lined up against a floor-to-ceiling window at the back and several square tables scattered around the rest of the floor space to accommodate smaller groups.  
 To Hide’s surprise, Touka slid in right next to him, while Kaneki and Naki occupied the opposite side. She kept her gaze trained on the table and pretended not to notice his expression.

    “I’ll bring you all some water and give you a few minutes with the menu,” the waitress bubbled, placing four menus on the table.

    “I’d like a coffee, actually. Black,” Kaneki called out before she could turn around. She smiled at him and took out a notepad from her apron, scribbling his order down.

    “I want a milkshake! Chocolate!” Naki piped, and the woman chuckled before writing down his order as well.

    “All right, sweetheart. I’ll make the milkshake extra chocolate-y just for you,” she added with a wink. “You two okay with water?”

 Hide and Touka nodded, and with that, she made her way to the kitchen.

    “Well, if that wasn’t the friendliest waitress I’ve ever had…” Hide remarked. "I wonder if she's new, we've never had her before."

    “Mm, and she seemed quite fond of you, eh Naki?” teased Touka, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to smirk at the blonde.

 Upon seeing the puzzled expression on Naki’s face, her and Hide laughed, not unkindly, at his utter obliviousness. They both noticed that Kaneki hadn’t joined in on the laughter, and turned to see that he was busy staring out the window. He wore an expression of barely-contained distress, the kind brought on when conflicting thoughts are buzzing around in your head so quickly that it’s difficult to keep a neutral face in place.

 Touka leaned forward further across the table and reached over to flick Kaneki’s forearm. Having known him for so many years, she understood that he tended to get lost in his own thoughts from time to time and typically excused such behaviour. Today, however, was on an entirely different level. He didn’t seem to have the energy to bother trying to engage in conversation or even give an occasional nod of acknowledgement.

    “Oi, stupid! Stop brooding and choose what you want to order,” she snapped when he turned to look at her. Even with Touka’s little assault, he still appeared to be distracted.

    “I’m just having the coffee, I’m no-” Kaneki was cut off when the waitress appeared again with the water and asked if they were ready to order, unaware of the slight tension within the group at the moment.

    “Yeah, I’ll have the strawberry crepes, while Kaneki over here-” Touka paused and placed a hand on his arm threateningly, “- will have your pancake special. A stack of ten, right?” She knew he had a weakness for pancakes; she has seen him devour the huge stack easily when they’d been here before, and would force him to eat today if it meant he’d get some breakfast in him. Touka had interesting ways of showing that she cared, and only those who knew her long enough would be able to tell them apart from seemingly hostile actions.

  The blue-haired waitress glanced between the two with an amused expression before turning to take Hide’s and Naki’s order. When the waitress left to put in their orders, Touka immediately turned her attention to her best friend, who appeared to be slinking down a bit into his seat and looking quite uncomfortable.

    “What’s up with you today?” She prodded, trying for a gentle tone. Her annoyance was back as soon as Kaneki sighed before turning back around.

    “Nothing, Touka,” he said exasperatedly, “I’m just tired.” He hoped his lie wasn’t too blatantly obvious. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie - he couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t feel at least a little tired. It had come to be a part of him, something that he didn’t really pay much attention to anymore. Kind of like breathing. It didn’t help that his nightmares had returned recently, either.

 Neither of them noticed Hide watching their exchange carefully, peeking out from above the menu while pretending he was still reading it.

    “Yeah, okay. After knowing you for all these years, you think I’m gonna buy that?” She asked, fighting to control the urge to raise her voice. The irritation was visible in her eyes, however, and Kaneki easily picked up on that.

  It made him feel irritated himself. Why couldn’t she understand that he obviously didn’t want to talk about it? If they’d been such close friends for so long, shouldn’t she know to drop the topic? Kaneki wasn’t particularly open about his feelings with anyone, not even her, so he expected her to understand. Why was she being so stubborn?

    “I said I’m good. Let’s just eat as soon as we get our food and go home, okay?” Kaneki muttered, hoping he didn’t sound as frustrated as he felt. He wanted the silent comfort of his room. He needed to be alone right now. A sharp feeling of regret settled as he wished he had backed out of the brunch plans earlier. Why did he think he’d be able to handle this with how he was feeling the previous night? His teeth clenched as he attempted to calm himself down.

    “Why won’t you just tell us what’s wrong? You’ve never been  _this_ moody before,” Touka snapped.

 Kaneki’s eyes darted up at that, and before he could think through what he was doing, he had slammed his fist down on the table. The cutlery near his hand clattered sharply, the loud metallic clink garnering attention from other customers and startling Naki enough to make him flinch.   
Hide’s eyebrows were drawn together in disappointment, although he couldn’t say he was surprised. He was much better than Touka at reading people, after all. He hadn’t thought Kaneki would express his anger so violently, though.

    “I think that’s enough,” he interjected calmly, placing a hand on Touka’s shoulder and staring hard at Kaneki. He really didn't want this situation to escalate and end up in a ruined friendship, even if their friendship was the main thing getting in the way of him and Touka being together. 

    “ _Take the goddamn hint_ ,” Kaneki muttered, taking a ¥1000 note out of his wallet and placing it on the table to pay for the pancakes he wouldn't be eating. He figured Naki would be more than happy to do the job. He slid out of the booth and walked towards the exit.   
 Touka tried to stand to go after him, but Hide grabbed her sleeve, shaking his head. She wore a bewildered expression - she’d never seen Kaneki react like that to anything.  

    “Leave him be for now.”

* * *

    He walked aimlessly, kicking pebbles and litter out of the way to vent his frustration physically. With each object he kicked, however, his irritation only increased. He tried making his shallow breathing more even, sighing in defeat when it served to do absolutely nothing.  
  He ran a hand through his hair, stopping to look around. He was a few blocks away from the restaurant now, in a somewhat quieter part of the city. Across the street, he saw a mother and her son, who looked to be about ten, holding hands and walking as they talked. Kaneki couldn’t hear the conversation, but he could tell the boy was chattering quite animatedly and swinging his arms back and forth. The mother smiled down brightly at the boy from time to time and appeared to be asking him questions occasionally, which served to encourage the boy’s enthusiastic babbling. A picture-perfect moment between mother and child. All smiles, laughter… trust.

    Kaneki looked away, feeling a numb sting behind his eyes. He began walking again and picked up his pace, head down and hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to think, and so he didn’t.  
His thoughts drifted from one random thing to the next as he focused his attention on trivial things that surrounded him on his walk. A withered old man, barely able to stand with his cane, trembling under a tree as he smoked a cigarette.  
  A dirty, single sock lying abandoned in the middle of the road.  
  A teen-aged couple walking, hips pressed together, into a tiny ice cream parlour. The boy had an arm wrapped around the girl’s hips and a finger hooked into one of her belt loops.

He watched with forced fascination, noting the most irrelevant details just to keep his mind busy. To keep other thoughts at bay.

    He walked past a small park, the sound of children’s laughter getting on his already-frayed nerves. He stopped at a crosswalk, gritting his teeth and waiting for the crossing signal to change, when he noted a flash of purple on the other side of the street. His eyes widened when they focused on a head of smooth, violet hair. What were the chances? He stared in disbelief. There was no mistaking that tall, slender build and the unique hair colour. He watched the model walk into a coffee shop and glanced up to read the sign. _Mikaku?_ He’d never heard of the place before. When the signal changed, he crossed the street quickly and stood by the cafe’s entrance, internally debating whether or not seeing Tsukiyama right now would be a good idea.

 He inhaled deeply and looked through the glass door of the small shop, releasing the breath he’d been holding when he saw that the place was empty, save for the barista who was taking Tsukiyama’s order. He opened the door cautiously and stepped in.  
He had wanted a goddamn coffee all morning, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over a month late... I'm so ashamed. I lost inspiration and direction, but forced myself to sit down and write, so it took me 4 sessions to write (and rewrite.. and rewrite again) this chapter. I'm not fully happy with it but I don't want you to lose interest either!  
> I do have the whole story mapped out now though - I almost never do that, I usually write as ideas come but that's a very bad idea). I'm going to do my best to go back to updating weekly. I'm kind of in a writing mood this week so maybe I'll put out more than this chapter, I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> Feedback, especially comments, would be highly appreciated!
> 
> Translations:  
> évitement - avoidance
> 
> mikaku (味覚) - taste, flavour


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